


dont fall in love lol

by hairtiesoncuffs



Series: the way your love made me feel (human) [1]
Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: F/M, How Do I Tag, Michelle Jones Needs a Hug, Sort Of, Teen Romance, idk do you call a partner bro, just enjoy it, oh btw there's a panic attack so, peter parker is mostly a good bro, um
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:35:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24251446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hairtiesoncuffs/pseuds/hairtiesoncuffs
Summary: It’s embarrassing to admit, even if just to herself. She’s never had a crush on anyone before, not this stupid, shallow love that everyone is doomed to. But this, this is so different. It’s almost sweet, alluring, and there’s no way she can fight it. Michelle has no idea why, maybe it’s because love is an enemy that has to be fought with the heart and maybe Michelle’s not good at that. She prefers things she can touch and punch and kick and stab through the middle.inspired by the song 'dont fall in love lol' by tate mcrae
Relationships: Michelle Jones/Peter Parker
Series: the way your love made me feel (human) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1752070
Comments: 7
Kudos: 29





	dont fall in love lol

**Author's Note:**

> um ye so i wrote a thing :)  
> small trigger warning for a panic attack in here  
> i hope you like it.

_dont fall in love lol_

The notification banner stands out right at the top of her phone, popping up a second after her alarm goes off, a daily reminder to never let her feelings decide anything. Long brown fingers skitter against the screen, swiping up in acknowledgement of the message and moving down to turn off the alarm.

It’s easy enough to heed. It isn’t like Michelle has many friends, much less feelings for other people. She can care, she supposes, but experience had told her it was easier not to. Instead of dwelling on the topic, Michelle rolls out of bed in sweatpants and a sleep shirt, shoving her messy hair out of her face. The light tossed in by the clear glass of the room’s window panes tells her it was barely past nine and that fact made it clear she’d taken a little bit of time to get up. _Thank God for weekends,_ she thinks to herself, pulling the curls back into a messy bun, its only purpose to keep her hair out of her face. Weekends mean time to herself, since her mom is working. Weekends mean time to draw, to sit outside and silently observe.

Weekends mean time to stop crushing on Peter Parker.

It’s embarrassing to admit, even if just to herself. She’s never had a crush on anyone before, not this stupid, shallow love that everyone is doomed to. But this, this is so different. It’s almost sweet, alluring, and there’s no way she can fight it. Michelle has no idea why, maybe it’s because love is an enemy that has to be fought with the heart and maybe Michelle’s not good at that. She prefers things she can touch and punch and kick and stab through the middle.

Not anything that has to do with feeling, because feeling can be dangerous. Feelings do nothing except get you attached and people like her can’t afford that. She just… she has to stay distant. Protect herself.

And then annoying, stupid, wonderful Peter Parker stepped through the doors at Homecoming and she didn’t know he was coming. There wasn’t any other option but to stick her middle finger up at him and smile because she knew what she wanted to feel but she wasn’t feeling it.

Her hand is sketching his face out onto paper, the calm look that veneered confusion and fear that had somehow navigated its way there. Just like his face on her paper because _darn it Peter Parker should not be in her house he is a classmate and nothing else._

But his face is still on the paper.

Michelle tears it out of her notebook and rips it up, scattering the pieces into the trash can. Peter Parker needs to get out of her head. He shouldn’t be here, even, in her house, messing her perfectly calm weekend up with all the confusing emotions and sweaty palms and flushed cheeks. Michelle takes a deep breath, trying to ground herself again, and makes tea.

It’s black, with way too much sugar. She likes it sweet.

There’s an attempt to focus on homework that lasts an hour and a half and gets it done before she needs to get out. There’s no reason for it, sometimes there’s just this _need_ to watch other people and learn from them (or their stupidity can be entertaining) and draw them. 

She ends up drawing Peter Parker as she crouches over her sketchbook on a park bench, angrily shading his face with gentle, caring marks. This time it’s him in their Academic Decathlon practices, the certainty painted so clearly on his face of his answers and the seriousness in his eyes, but his hair windswept from running late. Like always. For all the deadpan, calm stares she gives him when it happens, she doesn’t care. Less time with him there, less time for her to think about him. But he’s too valuable to the team, she knows, to kindly ask him off the team and out of her thoughts.

The rest of her day is quiet, besides that. Her mom comes home around six and they share a quiet dinner of leftovers. Michelle listens as her mom talks about work, and then when asked how her day was, she doesn’t respond.

Her mom is used to that.

She showers and slips back into bed, hair wet against the back of her neck and making her pillow damp as she falls asleep.

Michelle dreams of nothing.

* * *

MJ is the first one to arrive in her homeroom. Even before the teacher, but this is normal for her. She waits with her sketchbook out, prepared to write, draw, anything. 

She’s bored.

Her sketchbook is open to the drawing of Peter Parker she had made yesterday and all she can do is stare at the picture and regret every choice that led her here but also wanting to make the ones that could lead to her being his girlfriend.

And that one word snaps her out of her thoughts because _fuck she cannot be someone’s girlfriend and let them own her and own her body and take advantage of her for their own pleasure like her father-_

Her breath might be choking her because MJ can’t swallow that thought. She promised herself, she promised her mom that she wouldn’t let anyone own her, that she would be her own person with her own opinions and never be a follower because that can get her in trouble. As much as she doubts that Peter Parker is like that, everyone has a dark side. She knows. She’s seen it in her neighbors, in her father, in her mom, in herself. 

MJ needs to see Peter Parker’s dark side first. That way he won’t hurt her. That way she can protect herself before her heart makes any drastic choices.

The door slams open. The aforementioned teenager himself practically throws himself into the room, shaking and she’s pretty sure she can hear crying. The lights are still off. He can’t see her.

“Please. Hey, hey, please. I’m down here. I’m down here. I’m stuck. I’m stuck. I can’t move. I can’t…” He’s gasping, calling to no one and everyone and _here it is, are you happy Michelle?_

Peter Parker. Panicking. In front of her.

MJ’s seen panic attacks. She’s felt them. She knows what to do but her voice is stuck and her legs won’t move over to him and she’s stuck in her chair watching Peter Parker have a panic attack less than ten feet away from her. 

She’s not doing anything, she can’t do anything.

“Come on, Peter.” There’s strain lining his voice, pushing through the next words that almost physically knock MJ back. She’s suspected this, but there’s no way-

_Dark side, hmm?_

“Come on, Spider-Man. Come on, Spider-Man. Come on, Spider-Man. Come on, Spider-Man-” Another choked breath and MJ’s feet finally, _finally_ move. (He’s Spider-Man? Peter Parker?)

She walks silently over to the door, thankful that Peter Parker isn’t very aware of his surroundings right now, and opens the door carefully, making just enough noise that Peter Parker picks up on it and freezes. MJ locks the door behind her and turns on the light, staring at him with her normal calm composure. “So.”

“H-hey,” he manages, trying to act like he’s not freaking out, but it’s not convincing. She rolls her eyes, not sure if that’s for his benefit or hers, and crouches next to him. 

“Alright, loser. You’ve got air, okay. There’s air around you, I swear. Just breathe in and out with me. In, two, three…” Peter Parker follows her, slowly, messily, but she’s getting him to breathe normally. She snatches one of his wrists and feels for his pulse, thankful that it’s slowing down as they continue.

Finally, Peter Parker calms down. Smiles sheepishly at her. “Sorry.”

She scoffs. “Don’t apologize. It’s normal enough, you know?” He nods. “See you around.”

He leaves right before Abe steps in for homeroom.

* * *

She’s able to put the encounter out of her head for the next few days. It’s not exactly unusual, and when she thinks back to everything that Spider-Man- Peter Parker -has been through, it’s understandable. 

Classes trickle by slowly. She has a few with Peter Parker, and she manages to make another sketch of him. She doesn’t think he notices, but there are a few times where he catches him glancing at her. MJ continues to sit with him and Ned at lunch, and once in detention. Coach Wilson has given up on trying to get her to leave.

She doesn’t tell her mom about her crush in between when it first formed and when he asks her out. 

It happens on a Thursday. He arrives at practice early, just as she’s arranging their flashcards. “MJ.”

She doesn’t startle, even though she had no idea he was there.

“Peter.”

“I just wanted to apologize for Monday-”

She doesn’t turn around, just continues organizing. “It’s nothing.”

“Still, you didn’t need to see me like that-”

“It happens to the worst of us,” she blurts and regrets the words as Peter Parker looks at her confused. 

“I’m the worst of us?” he teases lightly, though she can hear the slight bit of pain that registers in his voice. “I knew I was a loser, but-”

“I meant me,” she interrupts, turning around. Peter Parker blanches.

 _“You?”_ he asks. “Of all people, you have panic attacks? But you have nothing-” He shuts himself up because he knows that people can have panic attacks for no reason, that fear and _trauma_ don’t have to leave their mark in scars. “Sorry.”

She waves it off. “Just shut up, alright?”

He nods, takes his seat, lets Flash insult him before MJ glares. Practice is short, or feels that way. Nothing really registers with her over Peter Parker’s words in her head. That she has nothing to worry about. Not that he heard what kind of relationship her parents had, not that he heard what happened to her older brother two years ago, not that he knows that her mom has shifts until one am just to provide for the two of them.

Peter Parker’s standing outside when she puts away her cards for AcDec practice, holding the door, to be precise, and smiles softly as she thanks him. “I’m sorry. Again.”

MJ stares at him. “Peter. Shut up, okay? It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Now, what would you say if you _hadn’t_ screwed up?”

He blinks. “What? I wasn’t- no-” 

All MJ has to do is stare at him before he cracks.

“Um… MJ, I was…” He trails off, rubbing the back of his neck nervously as she calmly faces him, staring at the top button of his shirt. It hangs loose, not meeting the fabric opening.

“Do you… do you want to go out? On a date? With me?” Peter says quickly, flushing bright red as she meets his eyes. MJ wants to say no, tell him she isn’t into dating, tell him why she won’t let herself fall in love, reject him and watch his face fall.

Michelle says yes.

* * *

_do(nt) fall in love lol_

Michelle is careful at first. She keeps slipping into MJ and not Michelle, not the one that Peter (Parker) wants. MJ is unfazeable and confident and detached and speaks out and doesn’t let any insults register. Michelle takes everything and keeps it close to her heart, where it can only hurt her and breaks herself worrying about other people. 

It doesn’t seem real at first, like this is just a dream.

(It’s not.)

She doesn’t tell her mom. Peter (Parker) tells his aunt. He tells her the next day that she’s happy for him and asks, “What about your parents?”

Michelle forces a smile. “They’re fine with it. Just warned me not to get in trouble.”

Peter (Parker) grins at her then and moves his hand into hers. They’re walking to school together, something that should feel unusual but isn’t for whatever reason. She doesn’t mind, just curls her hand around his as well and shakes her hair out of her face. “Do you want to do anything tomorrow?”

“Besides homework? Sure.” It’s an MJ response, she knows, but it’s like a blanket over her, comforting and shielding her from whatever this is, even though she knows she agreed to it. “What did you have in mind?”

Peter (Parker) smiles impossibly wider. “I really had no idea. Was kind of expecting you to say no, to be honest.” He laughs a little. “Okay, hm. Do you want to come over to dinner at my place? I’m sure Aunt May wouldn’t mind, and it’s a Friday tomorrow anyway, so- wait, your mom would be okay with it, right? And your dad? He won’t give me the ‘you-better-not-hurt-my-daughter-or-I’ll-rip-your-kneecaps-off speech, right? I promise I wouldn’t-”

Michelle has to cut him off. “One- it’ll be fine. My mom doesn’t really care where I go, as long as I come back. Two- I haven’t seen my father in twelve years. You don’t need to worry about him.”

Peter (Parker)’s mouth makes an ‘O’ shape and he’s speechless. MJ regrets opening her mouth, and is about to apologize when Peter (Parker) beats her to it. “Oh. Oh my God, MJ, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to be insensitive.”

“It’s okay. It’s not like I’m open about that shit, you know?” She sighs. “But yes, I would love to come over. It’ll be nicer than eating dinner alone, y’know?” 

Peter (Parker) nods. “Of course. I’ll check with her. Contrary to Ned’s belief, she’s actually a really good cook. It was the _one time,_ I swear. Although I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to be able to burn cooked pasta…”

Michelle laughs a little and squeezes his hand gently before dropping it and walking into the school.

* * *

She thinks it’s at his apartment where Peter Parker just becomes Peter.

Maybe it’s when he grins at her when Aunt May welcomes them in. Maybe it’s when they’re playing Uno while Ms. Parker - May - is cooking and he uses a reverse, shouting it out as he slams the card down. Maybe it’s when he whispers a joke into her ear that actually manages to make her blush.

Maybe it’s everything and nothing.

The second she shakes May’s hand and says, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Parker,” May tells her to call her by her name. It’s not mean, just a request that MJ is more than happy to fulfill if it means that May is okay with her… MJ-ness. With her Michelle-ness. With _her_. 

Peter decides to give her a small apartment tour, showing her just the basic rundown of the place. His room has bunk beds and is full of Star Wars paraphernalia. It’s about the same size as hers, maybe a little smaller or perhaps that’s just the bunk beds, but it’s cozy. Of course, he has a deck of Uno cards and they begin a fierce game. Or two. Or seven.

She wins, of course. It’s not even luck of the draw, she’s just better at planning ahead and choosing her cards than she is. Like when she changes the color knowing Peter doesn’t have any of those and then changing it to a different one the second he gets a card to put down and calling “Uno!” before he does and forcing him to pick up two more cards as she finishes.

(They both hate stacking up Plus-2 and Plus-4 cards.)

She even has “The audacity to hit _me_ with a Plus-4? _Me?_ MJ, I can’t live through this betrayal.” Peter flops dramatically on the floor with a giggle, and Michelle can’t help but grin at his antics as May calls them over for dinner. It’s spaghetti. Not burnt.

Michelle can’t resist the meme that’s just waiting, lying under her tongue and ready to be spit out. “Somebody… somebody toucha my _spaghet._ ”

Peter cracks up. “MJ, _no-_ ” He’s doubled over his seat in laughter, and there’s no way it was _that_ funny… 

(Of course, it’s because Peter wasn’t expecting something like that from her.)

May just shakes her head and turns to her own meal before absolutely interrogating Michelle, asking her about everything from school to her hobbies to her parents- “Just my mom” -and it’s strangely nice. She can’t remember the last time someone actually showed an interest in what she does, besides Peter and May. 

Michelle finds it odd that she likes it.

She’s not _used_ to people asking about her interests, how her day was, how _she_ was doing, sad as that sounds. It’s been her and her mom against the world for years, but now her mom is slipping away into extra shifts and no one asks her about anything anymore so she’s learned to clam up, to just stop talking and observe to see if there’s anyone, anywhere, she can trust, and then it’s just her against everything, everything, _everything_ so she puts walls up.

And Peter tears them down.

And she lets him.

Michelle hates herself for that, but at the same time it feels so good to let him in, to let someone care about her for the first time in what feels like forever. It’s almost as if she was underwater, only able to get air in short bursts before being pulled under again and then Peter came along and didn’t just _drag her out,_ he grabbed her hand and made sure she was okay and didn’t leave.

It’s terrifying and exhilarating at the same time. But it’s worth it, it’s so worth it. Love is precious, she realizes. She’s never been in love before Peter but, _but_ it’s so sweet and she wants more.

(She’s never wanted more.)

Michelle finds herself wrapped in Peter’s arms outside her apartment and grinning wide as he whispers words she hasn’t really understood the meaning of until today.

“I love you.”

It takes her a second. “I love you too, loser,” she says softly, not meaning the insult but telling herself this is dangerous. It _is,_ she knows it and she doesn’t care as Peter kisses her cheek and leaves.

Of course, she panics as soon as she walks in the door because _holy crap. She’s actually in love with Peter._

Michelle spends the rest of the night going between maniac giggling and sobbing into her pillow because she can’t decide if it’s worse to be in love or to be unloved.

It’s a surprisingly hard choice.

* * *

The first date with Peter is everything she wants it to be. It’s sweet and soft and just flows like no other date besides one with Peter would go. She doesn’t remember who’s late, if it’s him being late to arrive at the door or her being so unused to having dates (okay, so it’s her first date, sue her) that she doesn’t know how to prepare and almost misses it when Peter gets there, but by the end it’s the last thing on her mind. Sure, it starts off a little rough but it morphs into something sweet, almost like a drug, but she knows that even just one time is enough, she can’t get too attached to this feeling.

Her mom, of course, just has to be the one to open the door and see Peter standing there in a nice sweater and jeans while Michelle laces up her combat boots. “Michelle? Who’s this?” her mom asks, demanding without actually sounding demanding.

“I’m Peter? MJ- Michelle’s boyfriend?” Peter replies, confused. She told him that she told her mom, but he doesn’t know that she didn’t actually tell her because why would she?

“Michelle doesn’t have…” Her mom trails off as Michelle steps into the room, leveling her mom with a glare that could melt steel. “Excuse me, Peter, give me a second with Michelle.” She smiles apologetically at him and Peter just waves it off, though confusion is written all over his face.

“Explain.”

Michelle takes a second to decide on her answer. “His name is Peter. He’s a boy that I like. I’m dating him. End of story, can I go on my date now? He’s not a creep or anything, so it’s fine. I’ve known him for years.” She begins walking out of the kitchen, only to be stopped by her mom’s hand around her wrist. “What?”

“You can’t just _date_ someone without telling me, you know that. That’s been the rule since-”

“Since I was _twelve._ I’m sixteen now. Things change, okay? I promise he’s not a creep, I’ve known him for years. If there was anything off about him, I would know.” (She does know. He’s Spider-Man.)

“Michelle, I’m just looking out for you.”

She sighs, frustrated. “Look, can we do this when I get back? I don’t want to be in a bad mood when I leave, so can we please just argue about the people I date when I return?”

Her mom’s face softens, just a little. “Fine,” she concedes. “Fine. But we _are_ talking about this.”

Michelle nods. “Of course. I’ll see you later.” There’s no formal goodbye, no ‘have a good time’s, nothing that she assumes is normal before a first date. She walks outside and manages to smile at Peter because it’s _Peter._

“It’s okay?” he asks. Michelle nods. 

“Yeah. It’s okay,” she says quietly, letting his hand slip into hers as they exit her building and start walking down the street. Neither of them have the money to afford anything fancy, so they end up at a small Italian place owned by one of Peter’s neighbors, Mrs. Rizzo. She’s nice, a little elderly and with a kind smile as they walk in. They’re sat down at a small table in the back, quiet, both waiting for the other to speak.

It’s Peter who speaks up as Michelle lifts up her water glass. “So.” She takes a sip, holding a piece of ice in her mouth as an excuse not to talk. “You didn’t tell your mom?”

Michelle takes a second to decide on her answer and cracks her ice with an audible _crunch._ “I couldn’t. She’s so… protective and cautious about relationships and I just… I like what this is. I love it. It’s great, and I didn’t want my mom in the middle of it, interrogating me about every conversation, every action, everything we do together. I want to be able to enjoy it, if that makes sense, without worrying about you having to please my mom.”

Peter only blinks at her as she looks at her lap, cursing herself for the tears that are welling up in her eyes. “Hey, no, it’s okay. MJ, it’s okay, seriously. I get it, it’s fine.”

She laughs shakily. Their lives are so far from fine it _ridiculous_ to even imagine having a normal life. Her life is filled with superheroes and alien invasions and dust, so much dust, dust everywhere and coating everything and settling and being blown away and then she was gone and Peter was gone and her mom was gone and then there was orange for all of three seconds and then she was back and everything was different.

 _She_ was different.

Michelle lets Peter put his hand on hers, offering comfort, before scrubbing a hand over her eyes. “Sorry. Okay. Sorry. Jesus. Can we just… pretend that didn’t happen?”

Peter gives her a sort-of-sad smile. “Yeah.” They actually open their menus, skim over the dishes because Michelle knows she’s only going to get pasta al pomodoro. Peter gets the same, since they can’t really be bothered with the more expensive dishes. He grins as she corrects his pronunciation of _quattro formaggi,_ and she laughs as he messes it up again. 

She’s never had anything quite like this.

Mrs. Rizzo comes around to take their orders and they just fall into easy conversation afterwards, talking about school, AcDec, make fun of Flash a little and generally just bounce from one topic to the next. At one point Peter decides it’s time to introduce her to Avengers memes because the public has a field day with everything Peter posts on his official Stark Internship account. There’s photos ranging from Tony with coffee all over himself to Clint falling out of the vents to Vision staring at the toaster, the caption being, ‘he’s contemplating his evolution, leave him be’. He also has a multitude of videos, including Clint muttering, “Not today, Satan,” followed by Natasha kicking the door in and saying, “You called?”

Just to humor him, she asks, “Do you ever get to talk to Spider-Man?”

Peter blanches, just for a second, before quickly stammering out, “Y-yeah, sometimes, h-he’s just busy a lot of the time, with- with other things, you know? Since he’s not officially an Avenger or anything-”

Michelle cuts him off with a small laugh. “Loser. I already knew.”

“What? No. No, no, no. It’s not like that, I’m not- how would _I_ be Spider-Man, that’s _not even funny-_ ” She raises an eyebrow and he falls silent. “Yeah. Sure, whatever. You got me.”

“Anyone ever tell you I know everything?” she asks, a sarcastic smile curving along her lips.

“I mean, you just did, so…”

Peter insists on paying and walking her home. It’s nice of him, too nice, but she knows that’s just how Peter is. She smiles shyly as they approach her apartment. “Thanks. I had… I had fun. It was really nice.” A blush settles on her cheeks.

“I did too,” Peter says quietly, meeting her eyes. She blinks nervously, _how does this part go,_ and then she’s kissing him. For real. And he’s kissing her. And then _they’rekissingthey’rekissingthey’rekissing-_

They pull apart a little awkwardly and Peter clears his throat, smile wide. He pauses, just for a second. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she says, almost whispers, but Peter smiles all the same and kisses her one more time before walking away and leaving Michelle to enter her apartment on her own.

Her mom isn’t awake when she slips in, cheeks still flushed and grin wide on her face. 

_He kissed her._

She’s in too far already.

_She kissed him._

Loving Peter Parker is the best thing that’s happened to her.

* * *

The first time Peter has to remind her that she’s still here, it’s in the middle of a movie.

They’re at his apartment. The lights are off in the living room and they’re watching Big Hero 6 on his laptop because Michelle has never seen it and she’s always wanted to. Plus, Peter just so happens to know the login to Clint’s Netflix account.

Michelle isn’t exactly prone to this, but it’s happened often enough that her mom knows how to recognize it. However, she’s over at Peter’s apartment for the night and she’s forgotten how early or late it is. She can’t focus on anything else for what only feels like seconds but it is probably closer to a minute as her breathing picks up and Peter’s glane swivels over to her, noticing the tightening spasms of her jaw and Michelle is just one more thing time will take away. There’s dust, scattering into the road as a car veers towards the sidewalk, nearly hitting her, would hit the man next to her had he not crumbled right before her eyes just before the car jumped the curb. A tingling settles into her fingers, her skin, her _bones_ as she watches with horrified fascination as her fingers turn into dust, joining the people around her. It spreads, burning as it takes her arms, stabbing into her chest as her

heart

stops.

It dusts away and she can’t _feel_ anything except for fire, fire licking at her and turning her into ashes. That’s what it feels like and if she still had vocal cords she would scream as her view turned orange. 

Peter pulls her closer, murmurs comforting words to her and moves her hand to rest over his heart, telling her that he still has a heartbeat and that she does to and to focus on that, to breathe in time with his heartbeats. She’s aware that she’s sobbing, gasping into his shirt as she fights for breath, unable to find it until Peter wraps her in a hug. “You’re here, you’re here, you’re here, it’s okay. You’re here. I’m here.”

Time has stolen her, time has taken her five years into the future and she still feels like she could turn to dust at any second. That she could _disappear,_ return to the orange and get stuck there. Or be forced another five years into the future.

But Peter’s here. He’s real. He’s solid under her fingers and she thinks she can hear him telling her to breathe. His chest is moving and she tries desperately to match it. “That’s it. There you go. Come on, you’re okay.”

“’M sorry,” she slurs, closing her eyes and feeling more tears slip down her cheeks.

“It’s okay. I get it,” Peter says softly, hugging her closer so that her ear is right over his heartbeat. It’s steady, a stable _thump-thump, thump-thump_ in her ears and she’s okay. She’s okay. She’s here. Peter’s next to her. Suddenly kissing her again, stealing her breath in the best way possible.

Michelle has never felt more real.

* * *

“Michelle.”

She turns around, looking at her mom who’s in the doorway of her room. “Yes?”

“It’s time we had that talk.”

She groans. “What do you even want from me? He’s a good guy, okay? I’ve known him since high school started. He’s got good grades, lives with his aunt, isn’t a psychopath, and I am dating him, alright?

Her face softens just a little. “You said his name is Peter?”

Michelle nods. “Yeah. Yeah, he’s… he’s great, Mom. Look, I don’t want to be… tiptoeing around your approval, if that makes sense. I like him, I really do.” She’s not ready to use the l-word around her mother just yet. “He’s a good person. Can you just… can I have this? Please? Without having to worry that everything we do might not be what you want for me?” She rubs a hand over her face, pushing her hair back and waiting for her mom’s response.

It takes a second. “Of course, Michelle.” Her mom looks a little regretful. “I know I’m strict about it, but I just want to protect you. You know?” Michelle nods. “You’re everything to me. You’re my- my baby girl, as much as you hate that title. But I love you and all I want is what’s best for you.”

She nods, blinking twice. “I get it.”

They lay on her bed until only moonlight spills in through her windows and they fall asleep.

* * *

Their relationship tips over into school.

Not in big ways, but Peter and her hold hands, share secret looks, and generally just act like a couple. Of course, Ned is the first to know and his reaction to Peter’s news is exactly what she expects from him; loud and excited and friendly and so, so happy for Peter. This is when she knows that Ned really is Peter’s best friend, that she will have to avoid getting in between them because she cannot be the reason that Peter ignores Ned.

Flash catches on at their practice and brings it up to her after, asking exactly _why_ she’d date a ‘loser nerd like Parker’. (She doesn’t mention that Flash asked her out right after he said that to Peter when he asks why her cheek is red and her hands are balled into fists and she’s a ball of anger.)

Yes. He slaps her. He slaps her out of pure anger and frustration and confusion and _hurt._ Michelle knows that he’s a major a-hole, but she also knows that bullying typically comes from the person’s own pain. Still.

_Still._

She’s not letting anyone lay hands on her.

So Michelle punches him across the face. Hard. Harder than he slaps her. And with blood dripping from his nose and lip he spits out, “What the _fuck_?”

“Don’t. Touch. Me,” Michelle growls, low and dangerous, then goes to meet Peter outside the school. The mark on her cheek is reddening. He will see. He does see.

“MJ? What happened?” he asks, immediately concerned.

“Flash,” she replies shortly, touching it. It’s swollen. She swallows hard.

“He- he slapped you?” Peter says, shocked, quiet. Michelle nods, pulling on his wrist to keep him back.

“Leave him be. I already punched him across the face, it’s okay,” she reassures, feeling guilt settle in her stomach. She’s not a violent person. She’s really not. And yet, she punched him. Maybe it was just, but she still…

_He doesn’t get to touch me. He can’t touch me, he can’t touch me, he can’t touch me, hecan’ttouchmehecan’ttouchmehecan’ttouchmehecan’ttouchme-_

And then she’s wrapped in Peter’s arms, which are strong and safe and secure and she’s okay because he makes it. Because he’s there. Because he’s Peter, and she is in love with him.

She really is. She knows she is. And it’s moved on past the small hesitations that Peter would still be different but he’s not and it’s Flash.

But she’s okay.

Michelle is okay.

Michelle Jones loves Peter Parker and that’s okay.

* * *

He takes her to meet the Avengers.

They’re not surprised when F.R.I.D.A.Y. announces that Peter’s coming up but startle when MJ steps out with him, hanging back just a little and with her calm demeanor. “So these are the people who save our city on a regular basis,” she says, looking at Clint, who’s fallen out of the vent, Sam, who’s currently looking at Bucky and trying not to laugh, the other man glaring right back as Natasha braids his hair. Steve and Bruce are nowhere to be seen. Thor is in the kitchen with a box of PopTarts and is currently, with Vision, trying to figure out how to operate the toaster. Wanda is on one of the couches, reading a book. 

Tony walks right over to them. “Darn right we are.”

She stares at him. “Hi. I’m Michelle. You don’t need an introduction. Peter’s my boyfriend. I am not his girlfriend. Got it?”

“I like her,” Clint comments as Sam grins.

“So you’re the one who’s caught Peter’s heart, haven’t you? Be careful with him, he still needs his hot chocolate blown on,” Tony says with a smirk.

“That was _one time,_ ” Peter hisses, glaring at the man. Tony laughs and ruffles his hair affectionately. 

“Remember the time you got gummy bears all over the lab and U, DUM-E, and you had to clean up while you got Bruce to distract Tony?” Wanda asks.

“You did _what_?” Tony demands, wheeling on Peter, who jumps onto the ceiling.

“I need to hear this,” MJ says. They tell her story after story, all while Peter whines on the ceiling and threatens to web all their mouths shut.

MJ decides the Avengers are all idiots, but they’re Peter’s idiots. And he’s their idiot.

Basically, she learns that she’s surrounded by idiots. Wonderful, amazing idiots.

But still, idiots.

* * *

She gets caught in a whirlwind of school, home, and PeterPeterPeter.

They go on dates, they hang out at his apartment, at her apartment, after school and do homework and study and laugh and play games and she can’t, it’s almost too much but at the same time she can’t get enough.

(Michelle thinks she can understand why her mom stayed with her dad as long as she did. Love is a drug. It’s an addiction, and she’s the same way.

The difference is Peter.)

Every touch, every kiss, every moment with Peter is too good. Too much. Too little. She can’t. She loves it. She hates it. She loves him.

He loves her.

It’s still strange to her, to tell someone that she loves them. But Peter isn’t someone, he’s Peter.

They’re sitting on her rooftop and trying to look at stars through light pollution when it happens.

Peter stands up. “Come on. I want to do a little something.” 

Michelle follows him as he takes off his shirt, his pants, and reveals the Spider-Man suit underneath his clothing. “You’re really going to-”

“Hold on tight,” Peter says with a grin as he pulls on his mask and suddenly they’re flying.

She screams without sound at first, clinging tightly to Peter as they go _downdowndown_ and then swing _upupup_ and she’s flying.

Michelle remembers to breathe and uses it to laugh joyously as they go through the city, grinning as Peter’s arm around her waist tightens just the littlest bit. She’s weightless, nothing in the best way because she’s not Michelle, she’s not MJ, she is the city and the stars and the air and everything, everything, everything.

She knew it was too good.

She _knew_ it.

* * *

It’s three entire months later that Peter almost gets himself killed.

She doesn’t even hear it from him, it’s Pepper Potts who calls her with the news and she fumes silently for two days while Peter’s enhanced healing takes care of him. She knew it, she _knew_ it and she ignored everything and fell for him and dug herself deeper and deeper into his love and let go-

She sets her jaw, tapping out a new reminder before throwing her phone on her nightstand and collapsing into bed, not even bothering to change out of her clothes.

She'll tell him. She will. She'll explain that she can't do this, she can't just keep going in and in and in and in only for him to go and do _this,_ because she loves him too much. It's out of love that she's going to break up with him. It's out of too much love. It's all the love she gave him and all the love he gave her that she has no choice but to hand back because- she _can't._

She really can’t love people. It’s impossible. Like touching the moon with her bare hands like she imagined herself doing the night they swung through the city.

Michelle’s dreams are filled with Peter’s hand touching hers and soft looks and concerned eyebrows and tingly kisses and demon secrets and she sinks and sinks and sinks.

Her head pounds when she wakes up to the alarm, and she shivers just a little when the notification pops onto the screen. It’s permanent. Michelle isn’t changing it again.

_dont fall in love._


End file.
